Love Game
by Ju Ju La La Love
Summary: There's something strange going on at Hogwarts. Everyone is playing a new game that's making them act... a little out of character. One by one, everyone begins to give into their darkest desires, making lust the new headmaster. Really dirty yaoi.
1. If you want I'll call you master

Harry turned his head, ever so slowly to look at his captor. Draco Malfoy stood above him, his robe and shirt removed and his pale skin glistening in the moonlight which danced through the window of the Room of Requirement. Harry was lying spread-eagle on the ground, his wrists and ankles chained to four pikes in the floor. His mind raced as he wondered how he had gotten here, in this place, until he saw the mark on Draco's hand. That one little patch of discolored skin said it all… this was part of the game. The Love Game.

But it was only a game. That's what Harry had said when he started playing. It was just a stupid little pastime made up by a few bored girls, just like Bloody Mary or Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board. All you had to do was light a red candle and prick your finger, letting nine drops of blood fall into the flame. Then you were supposed to say, "I want to play the game," and drip the wax on your hand. Even after the wax had been washed away, it left a pink, heart shaped stain on your hand, marking you as a player.

Harry was shocked. He couldn't speak. He had done the silly little ritual on a dare one night along with Ron and the twins. He never thought anything would come of it, but now it seemed that the worst had happened. The worst… or was it? Harry stared into Malfoy's cold eyes and saw in them arrogance, fear and desire all at once. Slowly Harry's penis began to rise, becoming long and stiff. Malfoy took notice and sneered.

"Good," he said. "That's the response I expect from you every time you see me."

Not entirely sure what was going on, Harry watched as Malfoy turned away and busied himself with objects on a stand that sat just out of Harry's line of sight. "What's going on here Malfoy?" he asked.

Draco turned around with his wand in hand, keeping a blank expression on his face. Slowly and deliberately he lowered the tip until it gently touched the skin of Harry's genitals. There was a small spark of light and suddenly Harry was screaming and writhing with pain.

"Let me make something clear," said Malfoy. "You are no longer a human, Potter. You are a slave. I won the rights to your existence in the love game. See?"

He held up his hand to reveal that the mark left from the candle wax had changed its shape from a heart into an HP. Harry turned his head to the right. He was just able to see the shape of a DM on his hand before his head was wrenched in the other direction. Malfoy had grabbed his hair and turned his face so that their noses touched.

"Look at me when I speak to you, slave!" roared the master. Harry didn't know if it was the look in Draco's eyes or some strange magic or his own hidden desires waiting until this moment to surface, but all of a sudden Malfoy seemed like such a strong and powerful man that every fiber in his being craved to obey his new master's commands. "You belong to me now. Every thought you make and every action you take is my property. So let's lay down some ground rules, shall we? The first is that you are not to speak until spoken too. The second is that you are no longer Harry Potter. You are whoever I want you to be. And as for me, I am no longer Draco Malfoy to you. I am your master and you are to refer to me as such. Otherwise you may call me sir. Understand?"

Harry nodded yes, his penis throbbing with desire for this strange new person standing before him.

Malfoy returned to the table and resumed his work. Harry lay on the cold stone floor and waited for his master to make the next move. After five minutes, Draco turned around with a bowl of water in one hand and a jar and straight razor in another. He set the bowl and razor on the ground and proceeded to open the jar. Inside was an odorless, colorless gel that Malfoy began to pour up and down Harry's body.

Slowly Malfoy massaged the gel into Harry's chest and onto his arms, making sure to saturate the pits. Then, his cold hands moved down to Harry's legs, stopping first at his thighs, then his calves and ankles. On their way back up, Malfoy's hands stopped at Harry's butt, slapping each round cheek before poking an exploratory finger into his hole. Finally, the hands brought the gel to the base of Harry's cock, smathering the forest of dark pubes that surrounded it.

Harry's master grabbed the straight razor and dipped it into the water. "I am going to shave your entire body now," he said, "because only real men have body hair. You are not a man and therefore should not have body hair. This gel is a special potion I found that will remove the hair all the way down to the root, so that once I shave it off it will never grow back. Stay still and maybe I'll let you enjoy this."

It took all the strength in Harry's body not to moan in pleasure and delight as the cold metal blade ran across his naked skin, removing any trace of his manhood. Malfoy worked quickly and silently and soon Harry's body was as bald as a that of young child. However, he felt no shame or sadness, for this was a sign that he truly belonged to his master. His body shivered with pleasure at the very thought. But this small motion did not escape Malfoy's sharp eye.

"What's the matter little pussy bitch? Are you cold?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer he continued. "I think I know a way to warm you up." Malfoy reached down to his pants and unzipped them. As he pulled them down Harry noticed that he had on a very strange type of undergarment. "Do you like it?" he asked, noticing where his slave's eyes had settled. "It's called a jock strap. Muggles where it when they play sports apparently. I personally think it's a very nice erotic alternative to underwear. I hope you agree, because this is what you'll be wearing from now on. I want your ass open and ready to service me whenever I want.

"But let's get back to warming you up, shall we?" Malfoy proceeded to pull the jock down his legs and expose his own penis. Taking it in hand he aimed at Harry, letting loose a jet of golden urine. He sprayed the warm piss up and down his slave's entire body. Harry had his mouth open wide, hoping to get at least one drop of his master inside of him. When he was done, Draco Malfoy stepped out of his pants and sat on his slave boys chest.

"If I let you up," he said, "will you promise to be a good slave boy?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. In that case, as soon as I remove your restraints you are to crawl over to that corner and stand there." Malfoy grabbed his wand and flicked it. As soon as he did so, the chains disappeared. Harry proceeded to crawl like a dog on all fours over to the designated corner. Once there, he stood up and was greeted by a torrent of freezing cold water coming down onto his head.

"That," said Malfoy, "will be the last shower you ever take on your own. From this moment on, you will only bathe when I give you permission to bathe. Even then, you will do so only in cold water and the use of soaps or creams or any other bath products is completely forbidden. From now on I want to smell you, the real you. Also, starting tomorrow you'll be transferring houses. I want you at my side whenever possible, therefore you are now a member of the Slytherine house. I've procured for you a uniform. What do you think?"

"I think that it's too small, master," said Harry. Shortly after he spoke, a wave of pain shot through him as Malfoy sent another shock from his wand.

"The correct answer was, 'I don't think master. I have no need of independent thought.'" Malfoy sneered. "The uniform is small because I want all the clothes you wear to be embarrassingly tight. I want to see every bulge in your body, and I want to see you blush when everyone else notices them too."

Harry said nothing. He just lowered his eyes and waited for what his master had in store next. Malfoy placed a hand underneath his slave's chin and lifted it so that he was staring into Harry's eyes. Then, he placed his lips against the warm, moist flesh of Harry's mouth.

"I've always loved you Potter," he said. "Ever since that first day we met. That's why I wanted to be your friend, because you had in that instant taken my heart. But for some reason all you've ever felt toward me was hate. So, if this is the only way I can have you, then so be it."

Malfoy took Harry by the hand and led him gently over to a bed which the Room of Requirement had provided. It was big and soft and covered with white comforters. Once they were both in the bed, Malfoy pulled Harry into his arms with him erect penis poking gently into the small of Harry's back. At that moment, with Malfoy's warm, slow breathing on his neck, Harry wanted nothing more than to become one in an act of wild unbridled passion. But Draco was already asleep.

_Oh master!_ Harry thought. _Don't you know, you don't need to command me to love you. You never did. All you had to do was tell me the truth, because secretly I have loved you too. But if this is what you want then let me please you. My heart longs for you, and who am I to disobey? _


	2. The Cursed Twins

Fred ran across the shadowy grounds of Hogwarts toward the border of the Forbidden Forest. His loose fitting cotton pajamas flapped about in the cold night wind and once or twice his bare feet slipped against the dew laden grass. Upon his hand was a pink mark; a yang symbol.

George ran in pursuit of his twin, his clothes in tatters as the chill autumn breeze cut through his skin and frosted his bones. He called out across the lawn, "Please Fred! Slow down!" but to no avail. His brother would not stop. In the light of the full moon a pink yin symbol glimmered on his hand.

Once he reached the edge of the wood, Fred collapsed against a tree, both his breath and his energy spent. This gave George the chance to catch his twin as he collapsed on top of him. Fred tried to worm away from him, his face contorted with anguish, but the other Weasley twin would not let go.

"Please George," Fred cried. "Please, go away! Let me be! I don't want to hurt you!"

"I don't care if you hurt me Fred!" said his brother. "Don't you get it? Seeing you in pain hurts me more! Please, let me do this for you."

"Don't you get it? The cravings are getting harder and harder to control! Just look what I did to your sweater! I don't want to think about what I could have done to you tonight, George!"

"I think you are the one who doesn't 'get it' Fred. Without this exchange neither of us will go on living. You've tried animals and I've tried other men, but it doesn't work. My strength comes from you, just as your strength comes from me. Now," he said, removing his shredded shirt, revealing a torso covered in scars. "You need to feed." George reached back and removed a dagger from his waistband. He lifted the tip to a clear patch of skin on his shoulder and made a shallow cut which began to run with blood.

The wind picked up again and carried the scent of the blood to Fred's nostrils. He began to writhe in agony, fighting an internal battle between decency and debauchery. Finally, the blood lust won out and he leapt toward the abrasion on his brother's shoulder. Fred placed one hand on George's cheek and the other on his hip. His tongue creeped out of his mouth and began to lick away the crimson liquid. It probed into the wound and savored the metallic taste of his twin's blood.

George pushed Fred away and cut another wound into his hand. "This will have to do for now," he told his brother. "You got your sweet nectar of life, now it's time for me to get mine." Fred grabbed the hand and began to lick the fresh wound, taking in as much of the scarlet waters of life as he could. George knelt down in front of his brother and pulled down his pants, exposing his buttocks and genitals to the cold night. Fred, obsessed with his own meal, took no notice as his penis began to grow at the touch of his twin. When it was long and hard George went to work.

Gently placing his lips around the cockhead, George ran his tongue up and down the pulsing member. He felt every vein in Fred's penis bulge as they rushed blood into his stiff pecker. But blood was the other brother's source of strength, not his. He craved a sweeter juice, one that was creamier and more pleasurable than the crimson waters of life. He could still remember the first time that he had tried to feed in this way. He had cried like a baby. Tears streamed down his face as he gagged upon finding his brother's cock too large for his mouth. Now he did the deed without a thought or a care. It was like fitting two pieces of a puzzle together. George enjoyed every moment of his meal; the taste of his brother, the smell of sweat on the breeze and the satisfaction of a full stomach.

Fred continued to lick away at the gushing blood, completely unaware that he was beginning to reach climax. George's head was quickly moving back and forth along the other Weasley twin's hard cock trying to speed the process along. Finally the orgasm was achieved and a load of Fred's sweet man juice shot into George's mouth and down his throat. Satiated, George sat back on his heels and let out a sigh, letting his hand fall away from Fred's mouth.

Whenever he was feeding, Fred would go into a trance where all he could think about was the blood before him. But the sensation of his own orgasm was so strong that he would snap out of his frenzy long enough to take in the situation before passing out. Tonight was no exception. As soon as he came into his brother's mouth he collapsed onto George's lap.

George Weasley cradled his twin brother in his arms, gently stroking his face. Ever since they started playing the love game, neither twin could eat or drink. Food would turn to ash in their mouths and beverage would dry up as soon as it hit their tongue. The only substance that could sustain Fred was George's blood and the only substance that could sustain George was Fred's cum. Fred still fought the result of the game, though George had submitted to the will of the Fates. George looked over at his tattered sweater from earlier that night when Fred, in a fit of hunger, had tried to claw away at his brother's skin.

_How ironic,_ thought George, turning to look at the moon, _that this should be how the game ends. All our lives we've been a set of two. One could not exist without the other. I had Fred to justify my existence and he had me to justify his. Now, we truly need each other. I am the only one who can satisfy you and vice-versa. We really can't live without each other. _He looked down at his brother's sleeping form and glanced at his brother's peaceful face… his face. _This is our curse brother, it always has been. It's just taken a new form, that's all._

Kissing him on the cheek, George lay down next to Fred and wrapped his arms around him to help keep away the cold. As the two young men drifted off to sleep, the moon looked down with sorrowful eyes, for she too knew the pain of forbidden love. A shooting star streaked across her face and fell into the horizon, making it look almost as if she were shedding a tear for the poor cursed twins below.


End file.
